


Why She Left

by thequeenmeera



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Most of the characters only make quick appearances, Smut, i have a huge soft spot for girls named Alys, this idea has been stewing for a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 19:12:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequeenmeera/pseuds/thequeenmeera
Summary: the title is enough of a clue





	Why She Left

**Author's Note:**

> This isn't a reaction to 8x03, I've had this idea in the back of my head for a while. If there is any part of it that is reaction it's how relieved I am that Meera wasn't part of the rollercoaster of death and now that it's safe why can't she come back?!  
> Though I did fix two of my problems with 8x03, they're kind of obvious fixes. People who can spot them will get a head pat.

There were so many bodies and Jon was grateful it was too cold for the corpses to smell as much as they should have by that point. He had taken a moment to drink from the wineskin before turning back to his task of moving bodies onto carts, into piles to be burned. Everyone was searching the mounds of bodies for their lost friends and loved ones. But most of the people were unidentified and often unrecognizable. They had been at this task for over a week; the thousands of survivors all had to help with the exception of the mortally wounded or those cripples whose condition made it impossible for them to contribute. Even Sansa had taken up helping without complaint which surprised the rest of their family since carrying, stripping, and burning corpses did not appear to be something she'd be adept at. She was mostly concerned with deciding what clothing, armor, and weaponry should be kept and what would be burned with the bodies and she did that task well as she had done well in keeping those who had stayed out of the battle calm.

Before Jon could get back to hauling bodies a guard approached him, shouting “My lord, there’s armed men riding from the south.” Jon dropped the arm he’d just grabbed and ran back to the castle. It would be near impossible to defend he knew but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. Many of the other workers moved with him to see whatever threat was coming swiftly from the south.

As it turned out there was no need for the frenzy. Jon spotted the banner carried by the lead horseman and stopped running. It was not a banner he was familiar with but he did remember seeing a likeness of it in his lessons on northern geography with Maester Luwin long ago – it was the banner of House Reed. Gray-green with a great black lizard lion emblazoned on the field. The group was small as well, no more than forty men in the party and a few wagons.

“Are they enemies?” Daenerys asked as she came up behind him.

“No, they’re bannermen from the Neck.”

They went to meet the newcomers. Jon was curious to meet the crannogmen and also curious to know why they had not come before though he could not recall sending the call to arms as far as the Neck. The Maester and Bran had both said that no raven could reach Greywater and they had not had time to send messages by foot in the deep winter.

Lord Reed was present and dropped to one knee before his lord and his queen. “Before we talk, my lord, may I ask if your Maester is alive or available to help?”

“The Maester is alive but he is occupied with so many wounded, why do you need him?” Jon told the lord.

“My daughter is… ill. She’s grown worse on the journey north and if there is any chance your Maester or any healer might help her –”

“She’ll be taken care of my lord,” Daenerys interjected and motioned for men to come, ordered them to take Lord Reed’s daughter to the Maester’s turret and sent them off. The daughter Lord Reed had mentioned was obviously short and appeared to have dark, curly hair and Jon could make out nothing else due to the heavy cloak and furs the girl was wearing.

When they were inside and seated Jon began asking his burning questions. “Why did you not come earlier my lord?”

“With all due respect lord Stark you did not call for us to come and by the time I had made up my mind to march north and help anyway but my daughter fell ill and I could not leave her behind – it was because of her that we even knew of the danger to the north – and then the dead in the Neck rose against us.”

“The dead in the Neck?” Daenerys asked.

“Yes, there have been many armies defeated in the swamps before either by nature or by a well-placed dart. They were Freys for the most part, at least the ones that weren’t entirely decomposed. The nature of the bogs can preserve bodies and they rose up. We got caught fighting them and after they all fell, we’re still wondering how that happened, I had to wait until my daughter was well enough to travel before coming north to pay my respects.”

They spoke for a time of the war, their battles and losses. Daenerys asked about whether or not the crannogmen were prepared to fight in the South.

“Many of us survived the past conflicts yes, but we are small people. Our armor is light and our training is in stealth. We can defend our homeland well but beyond that we are untested,” was Lord Howland’s reply.

Jon invited Lord Reed and his daughter to join the Starks and their queen for supper, an invitation which Lord Reed readily accepted. Their guests were the last to arrive for the meal. It was a rather large group in the solar as all the Starks, Daenerys, their advisors and close friends were in attendance. When the Reeds were added the room felt small. Up close Jon could see that Lady Reed was very pretty and very small, smaller than Dany though she still wore thick, heavy layers of clothing and had her arms wrapped tight around a bundle of cloth. As they approached the table the bundle gave a cry. Jon jumped and Theon nearly fell out of his seat, the ladies jumped out of their chairs and all color drained from Bran’s face.

“Is that a baby?” Tyrion asked.

Lady Reed adjusted the weight of the bundle in her arms, “Yes, I brought her to meet her father. Is there anywhere she can rest?”

“May I hold her?” the queen interjected.

“Of course, your grace.” The young lady hesitantly handed the care of the baby to the eager arms of the queen.

Daenerys cooed at the baby and examined its face, “She’s beautiful.”

Lady Reed smiled, “she is.”

“You said you brought the child to meet her father…” Jon started.

“Didn’t Bran tell you?”

“Tell us what?” Theon asked, a laugh in his voice.

They all turned to look at Bran then, whose face was beginning to resemble a beet. He twisted his hands in the furs on his lap and his gaze flickered from the floor to Lady Reed’s face, “She’s mine. Meera and I – we were wed beyond the wall.”

Tormund and Theon guffawed. Sansa turned to her brother, “And you never said anything?”

“It never came up,” he said determinedly.

Jon had the feeling the young couple were lying about being wed, though nothing could be proven on that point. The Northern smallfolk had long had their weddings in secret and as long as they both insisted the marriage had taken place that was proof enough. Jon had no desire to challenge them and doom the babe to a life as a Stark bastard. Daenerys was taken with the babe and Jon’s sisters had joined the little group of women to examine the babe and take turns holding her. “So you sent your wife away?” he asked his brother.

“Of course, it wasn’t safe here. You all saw that well enough.”

“I would have been in the childbed during the battle; I doubt that would have gone well and it was bad enough,” Lady Reed – or Stark – added.

“What I don’t understand,” Tormund asked her, “Is how that boy managed to get his prick up for ya? I know cripples may still be able to do it but that boy hasn’t been excited by _anything_. How did you get him to do that when he can’t speak two words of sense together?”

There was a mixture of snickers and uncomfortable stares. Lady Reed did not blush, “He wasn’t so bad when we were wed. He got worse after we started making our way to Winterfell though.”

The women spent the meal passing the babe back and forth with the exception of Ser Brienne who was uncomfortable with children and did not trust herself to hold the babe. There were no objections made when Lady Reed disappeared into Bran’s bedchamber with him while the babe was taken to the nursery nearby along with orders that if the babe were to need nursing that her mother should be summoned.

***************************

It had been a long time since Bran had felt so good. Not since the last time they were together like this. He marveled at how Meera’s body had changed since they’d shared a bed in Castle Black. Then she’d been lean from years of hunger but her limbs had been defined by muscle. The muscle was still there but her torso had filled out. Her belly had grown larger and was defined by red stretch marks. There were smaller stretch marks on her breasts as well; they’d grown larger and when Bran tried kissing her there, sucking lightly at one nipple as he had when they’d first been together he was surprised by a trickle of warm milk on his tongue. Meera hissed in pain and pushed his head back, “That’s not for you,” she muttered.

“Sorry,” he gasped before moving to press kisses into her neck and down to her sternum. Neither of them had breath to speak before they’d finished.

Meera had barely cleaned the seed off her legs and Bran was just beginning to fall asleep when a maid came knocking at the door, their baby squalling in her arms. It woke Bran up enough to talk to Meera. He waited while she settled back against the pillows she’d propped up, the babe already nursing happily. “May I ask you some questions?”

She nodded, “Just speak quietly,”

“Why didn’t you come to me before you told everyone about the babe?”

Meera sighed, “I was going to but I had to speak with the Maester first. She nurses so hard and so much you see, I’m sore and my breasts are often chapped and even bloody. I ran out of the little salve I had on our way north, about three weeks ago and I had to wait for hours for the Maester to see me.”

 “I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

“And, why didn’t you tell me you were with child?”

“You were growing more distant by the day Bran and I often wondered… if I’d made a mistake making those promises to you and lying with you. I didn’t want to be stuck here when the wall fell and my furs hid my belly well enough.” She stopped and chewed her lip, “You certainly didn’t try to stop me.”

“Should I have? We’ve both said you were safer at Greywater. If you’d stayed here I would have lost you forever; both of you.”

She nodded and yawned widely, “If you’re quiet too long I might fall asleep. Do you have anything else to ask me?”

Bran shifted, pulling himself further back against the pillows. “Does she have a name?”

Meera shook her head, “I’ve been calling her ‘Leaf’ so I have something to call her but I thought I should let you have some say in her naming.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

“Not many. We can’t name her Jojen, perhaps we could name her after your mother?”

“No,” Bran’s heart still hurt too much at the thought. He looked at their babe, studying the fine red hairs on her little head and how she attacked her mother’s breast. “She’s a strong girl, perhaps we could call her Alysanne?”

“Alysanne? Like the queen?”

“Or Alysanne Blackwood who was lady of Winterfell. Or Alysane Mormont or Alys Karstark.”

Meera nodded, “It’s a fine name. We’ll call her Alysanne.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a lot that didn't make it into the piece such as Meera possibly suffering from an infection after birth, I really meant to imply that pregnancy and childbirth was especially Not Fun for Meera being very small, under a lot of stress. I am also aware that this resembles a lot of my previous work. That does not bode well for any future writing career I might have. On the other hand I usually write these as they come to me and that's mostly because I'm working through a tangle of feelings and half my fics are just different perspectives or takes on what could happen. Ignore my musings.


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